The Common Thread
by Amy Pond
Summary: No matter Sierra's imprint, one constant always remains the same. Short scenes set in various episodes throughout the series: spoilers for all. Sierra/Victor.


"You can't punish me for doing my job; that's all I'm saying," she explained to the man with a touch of annoyance as he waited with her for her treatment.

"Of course, of course," he agreed.

She rolled her eyes. He clearly wasn't listening, but she supposed it didn't matter. She was still getting paid, and the job got done. All that mattered really.

She heard muffled voices inside the room. She tapped her foot impatiently.

"I wasn't aware there would be a line," she said sharply.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," he said. "I think they're just finishing up in there."

As if on cue, a man exited the room, finally allowing her her turn.

"Pardon me," the man said with a thick Russian accent as he passed.

That man…

* * *

…Why did he look so familiar? He was kind of cute…

How could she be thinking about this right now? After the day she'd had. Meeting her favorite singer on Earth! – well, maybe she wasn't so much that anymore – then being kidnapped, almost dying! And yet…this paled in comparison to the nagging feeling. That familiar face.

She waved, giggling awkwardly. He crooked his eyebrow at her.

* * *

"Why do I feel like I've been seeing you a lot lately?" the Russian dude asked.

"Beats me. Don't have a clue who you are," Taffy shrugged. She knew _way_ better than to let on that he seemed familiar to her. After all, it didn't make much sense. She didn't _know_ him. "Must be one of those faces, I guess."

"What's in the briefcase?"

"Um, proof that I'm not an amateur. In other words, none of your business."

"Geez. What is it with everyone and the secrets? If I didn't know any better I'd say I was being played by the whole world."

"Played, huh? I have this motto: if you don't know you're getting played, you probably deserve it."

"I do? Well, uh, what about if I have an…inkling?"

"I don't do inklings. When I feel something in my gut, I tend to be right."

"I bet you're some kind of woman."

"Most women are."

"I have some things to do, but…you maybe fancy a drink later?"

* * *

She couldn't think about this now. She had a job to do. People to tend to. …But as she administered the shot, she felt her thoughts drift a tad, picturing the face of that suave Homeland Security Agent…

She cleared her throat as if to push the pictures away. Save lives first, think about guys later. After all, she became a doctor for a reason. She needed to fix these people. They needed her help.

She managed to push him to the back of her mind again, didn't say a word to him that wasn't business. But occasionally her mind wandered again, and she would think of him.

* * *

She hated him! She didn't know who he was – well, not exactly – but she knew what she felt. Pure, unadulterated hate coursing through her veins like a black ooze. Had she ever hated anyone this much?

Her eyes strained hard, staring desperately out the window, trying to find him. She had his name, but not his face, his identity. Who was he?

She nearly jumped when she felt the hand gently on her leg.

"Don't worry. We'll find him," 'Victor' assured her.

She let out a slow exhalation. "And then what?"

He smiled kindly, but with uncertainty. "Well, I'm sure it'll all come together."

He wasn't looking at her – not that she _wanted_ him to crash the car – anyway, she knew who he was smiling at. His face was like the best kind of distraction. His sweet, soft grin. His wide, childlike eyes. Full, gentle lips. She knew they'd feel so good against her—

* * *

– skin felt warm in the shower. She liked the shower. The shower felt nice. The shower had lots of water.

She was finished showering now. She walked out of the shower, picked up a towel, and wrapped it around her body. It felt soft.

She walked into the next room. "Good day," she said to Victor, who walked by her with another woman.

"Good day," he replied politely. The way he talked was different. His voice didn't sound like it should. She wondered if there was something wrong with it. Was it why his eyes lingered on her longer than they should have?

"Come on, Roger. What would Katharine think if she found out you've been spending time with half naked women?"

"Katharine isn't nearly so petty. She knows that I belong only to her."

She hoped Victor was okay. She almost felt like she should help him. But she didn't know how, what to do or who to ask. She sat down to eat. There were strawberries on her plate. For some reason, she kept thinking of Victor.

* * *

It was strange how she thought about him. She was having a blast with her best friend. Seriously, he was the most awesome dude to hang with ever!

Maybe that was why she thought it was weird. If she was having such a cool time, why was she thinking about a…a someone. A someone she didn't even know, couldn't even remember.

She blew out her breath in a long whistle.

"This place messes with your mind, man," she told Topher. "Kudos on the choice of workplace."

"What can I say?" his grin was goofy as ever.

"Does it ever make you think stuff? You know, like remember weird things you don't remember? Like—"

* * *

Him. So familiar. Maybe it was the jet-lag from Tucson talking, but she could _swear _she knew that man. Just looking at him made her feel safe and warm and happy. She wanted to go say hello to him, but how weird would that have been?

_Hello, strange man I don't know and who doesn't know me. Haven't we met?_

She chuckled at her sleepy self. Maybe the treatment would help.

* * *

The treatment was nice, but now she was ready for business. No more distractio…damn!

"They sure have got some gorgeous studs around here," she nudged her partner.

"And _you're_ the one that's all business," her partner sighed. "It's sad, really."

"I've got some down time 'til you change. What _will_ I do with it?"

She waved coyly at a particularly muscular-looking one. He had dark ebony hair and these beautiful eyes. He smiled instantly upon sight of her, waving his hand frantically in response.

She furrowed her brow. "They're cuties…but maybe slightly retarded." She cocked her head in thought.

"We could be gone by now," her partner pointed out in singsong.

She sighed and followed behind obediently. But she would _definitely _be in need of some downtime afterwards. First the handsome competition, and then _him_.

* * *

He was nice. His hand felt nice. She knew this now. Because it held hers.

He smiled at her. She smiled at him. She liked this. She liked here. She liked him. She was going to hold his hand forever. She was going to be happy forever.

* * *

She was really worried. Emily was always kind of paranoid when it came to her husband. Maybe it was because he was always so distant with Jack…? But this time seemed different. She didn't know if Emily would really take her advice this time. What if she did something stupid?

She expressed her worry as she was taken in for her treatment. She was assured it was nothing to worry about.

So she wasn't worried.

But not because she was told not to be. But because she saw him. A man who was familiar, and at the same time, unrecognizable. But she could feel a happy, tingly feeling prickle through her body just upon seeing his face.

* * *

_That's him. I love him. Is that real?_

He had told her it was.

She closed her tear-stained eyes as she relaxed into the chair, waiting for this horrible memory to be erased and over. The chair seemed excruciatingly slow.

She wished there was a way to get rid of today, but still keep him. This man she loved. This man she didn't even know, and yet knew she loved. She didn't want him to go away. She didn't want her love for him to go away.

Of course, keeping his memory without the memory of today would probably be impossible.

She squeezed her eyes tighter as she heard a low hum behind her head. She just had to hope she'd find him again. However she had managed it the first time. She wondered—

* * *

–if it would be inappropriate. Maybe Topher could tell her.

No, no! She couldn't! She worked with this man! But…he just seemed so…so sweet. And smart. And he looked so good in his lab coat.

She wondered what everyone would think if she just kissed him. Went right up to him and kissed him. Right here, right now. No. That would _definitely_ be unprofessional.

Wait! Was he saying something?

* * *

"Take her for example." Victor had a strange voice again. But he was talking about her. She liked when Victor talked. She liked when he talked about her, too. Should she talk about him more? "You assume she feels no urge for a man because you have 'wiped' her – is that your term? Well, basic instinct can't be wiped. Sex is part of human nature. Think Freud. Babies are born with urges."

She didn't understand what Victor was saying. But she wanted to. But how could she make him explain it to her?

"Hello, Victor."

"You see? She is thinking about a man."

* * *

She couldn't remember him, but she somehow felt she had never stopped thinking about him.

She couldn't imagine all the times she'd met him, all the ways. But she didn't care. Getting to know him was part of the adventure. And she had it easier than most. She already knew she loved him.

He kept gentle hold of her hand even as the car tossed them. Echo pretended not to notice the kisses they stole. Sierra could only imagine she was also ignoring their seemingly idle babble.

What was his favorite ice cream flavor? Was he a dog person or a cat person?

But these were the things that mattered. These were the things that were real. Tony may always have been there, but she didn't know him. And she wanted to. She wanted to know and never forget.

And she knew that, for once, she wouldn't. Because no matter what she would find him again. Just as they always found each other.


End file.
